Looking for Angels
by eatingpaper
Summary: Matthew, forced to volunteer at World-Wide Psychiatric Institution, befriends the patients under his care, especially an artist with a mysterious past. The more time he spends with them, the more he realizes that everything is not as they seem ed ...*Hai*


Alright. As if I didn't have enough on my hand right now. Like I needed to have another multi-chaptered fic. Pft.

But! This little dear has been circling the back of my head for quite some time now, and I do so love psycology, so...

Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Any likeness or similarity to any real people is purely coincidental. I don't claim to be a master in psychology, so the way the characters act may seem a bit off. Okay, scratch that. _very_ off.

* * *

"Honey, dear, hurry up and have breakfast – you need to go soon!"

Emily Williams gave a sigh of relief as her son, futilely trying to comb his curly locks while pulling on a maple hoodie, stumbled out of his room and to the dining table.

"Sorry mum. I totally forgot," Matthew said, sheepishly greeting her and reaching for an apple from the fruit bowl. "I'm not really hungry, so I'll just go now, ay." He sounded like a man meeting his executor, earning a concerned look from his mother and a pat on the back.

"Don't worry, honey, I'm sure it'll be fine," Mrs Williams smiled, "I read that it's a prestigious facility, with skilled doctors –"

"And the craziest people in the country stuffed in there."

"I'm being serious here," his mother scolded. "It's under the supervision of one of the world's best psychiatrists. You'll be in very good hands, I'm sure."

"You make it sound like _I'm_ being admitted into that place, not just volunteering there!" His mother grinned back at him as he began munching on his apple.

"Oh, just maybe," his mother teased as she handed him the brown envelope from two days earlier. "You might want to read about the place during the trip there."

Matthew resisted the urge to roll his eyes and accepted the envelope, slipping on his shoes while leaning on the front door. "Right. To prepare myself, I know."

His mother waved goodbye as he exited the house.

Stifling a yawn, Matthew began to walk to the bus stop. Holding his half-eaten apple in his mouth, he pulled out the sheaf of important-looking documents from the envelope. The topmost one was a log of his community service hours for his employer to fill in, and after that were there papers with bits of information about the mental institution, and last was a letter to him. He sat down on one of the benches and waited for the only bus that went past the mental institution to arrive.

_Dear Matthew Williams, _

_I extend my warmest greetings to you. _

_It is with great pleasure and honour that I welcome you to our psychiatric facility. I'm assured that you will have a favourable and unforgettable experience here in our institution, and that you will emerge from its doors with a changed perspective and perhaps even a new personality and outlook on life. I am extremely delighted to know that young people, such as yourself, are interested in helping others with mental instabilities. This knowledge warms my heart. It makes my anticipation to meet you stronger. _

_Your job at our institution is simple: you only need to keep our patients company. Many of our patients staying within our walls do not have many visitors, and they tend to get very lonely. In a certain wing, you will be assigned a 'lounge' with people close to your age, to facilitate easier interaction. Our patients are benevolent and most are people-friendly, so there is nothing to be concerned about; patients that need special attention or are prone to violent violence reside in another wing so there is absolutely no risk of an employee attack. _

_Having said that, I am awaiting your arrival to the Institution, and I know you will have a wonderful time here with us at World-Wide Psychiatric Institution. _

_With the best regards, _

_Dr. Berwald Oxenstierna _

_Director and Head Psychiatrist of World-Wide Psychiatric Institution. _

After reading the letter a few times, and raising eyebrows at '_I'm assured that you will have a favourable and unforgettable experience here in our institution_, Matthew couldn't help but feel that the Head Psychiatrist seemed to be awkward with English.

"_I will emerge from its doors with a changed perspective and perhaps even a new personality and outlook on life_!" Matthew repeated in a mocking, airy tone, tossing the apple cob into the nearby dustbin as his bus pulled into the bay.

Slotting the assorted documents back into the envelope, he boarded the bus as the only passenger.

The ride was long, seeing as the institution was located on the outskirts of town, supposedly to give the residents of World-Wide Town a peace of mind. Soon, it had left the pretty painted terrace housings and passed through a stretch of grassy fields and forests to stop near a pair of black gates.

After hurriedly thanking the bus driver and paying his fee, Matthew clambered down the bus and surveyed his surroundings. Past the gates, there was a white building, with the medical cross emblazoned into the stonework. Just looking at it sent shivers down his spine.

He nervously chewed on his lip as he approached the black gates exactly like the ones printed on the papers in his hands. There was a security guard in the guardhouse, watching him.

"E-excuse me, I'm Matthew Williams, that new volun –"

The guard, who had been scrutinizing him, held out a hand. "Identification papers," he said in a monotonous tone. A few minutes later, a flustered Matthew handed the man his student ID and his driving license (though he never did drive) and anxiously watched as the man spoke to someone briefly on the intercom. "Alright. Report to the main building, where admin will be."

"T-thank you…" Matthew collected his things and slipped in through the side gate the guard had opened. There were thin strips of garden lining the walls of the compound, and Matthew figured there was a larger yard at the back of the building, as well as parking lots.

Don't worry, it'd be fine, Matthew repeated to himself. The glass doors slid open and he walked in.

The smell of the hospital is the furthest thing from comforting that it could ever be – behind the masquerade of sterile lemony scent lay the vile truths of disease and death. The walls are white and bland, probably whitewashed to hide any unbecoming marks. He'd always hated hospitals, and this one was eerier, in a sense.

"Hello," someone spoke up, in the same monotonous voice as the guard. "You are Matthew Williams, am I right?" Said boy turned to face the front desk, where a young man with tousled silver-white hair sat, eyeing him with violet hues. "The new volunteer?"

Matthew nodded his head. "Yup."

The young man stood up, leaning over a pile of files and extended his hand to Matthew. "I'm Emil, an intern of Doctor Oxenstierna's. Pleased to meet you." After shaking hands, Emil eyed his uncomfortable counterpart. He circled his desk and gestured for Matthew to follow him down one of the corridors branching off the main hallway. "You don't look like someone who would procrastinate on community hours."

The blonde boy beside him gave a small laugh. "My employers tend to…forget about me, ay." Emil arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything, choosing to knock on the dark chestnut door they had stopped at.

"Come in!" Matthew was surprised by the cheerful-sounding voice; Berwald Oxenstierna sounded sombre. "Oh, you're the new volunteer! I'm Kaija Väinämöinen, one of the psychiatrists in residence. You're Mathias Williams?" Kaija was a pretty woman with twin blond plaits, sitting behind a large desk in the centre of the office.

"Matthew Williams, ma'am," the younger blonde handed her his log.

"Oh, whoopsies, sorry, dear," Emil bid the two of them good day and closed the door. The office was small, its walls covered with bookcases containing thick tomes on the behaviour of the human mind, DSM volumes and a few awards and framed up diplomas from prestigious institutions around the world. Kaija was scribbling something on her palm. "Take a seat, please," Kaija gestured towards the comfy-looking leather chair near Matthew, and the young blonde immediately took a seat. "_Matthew _Williams, eighteen years of age, currently in your last year at World-Wide High, top student in your level and," here, Matthew went pink, "no current relationship."

The fact that she had that kind of information was a little unnerving _and _embarrassing. "Ay, it's nice to meet you, Doctor Kaija."

The woman ran a hand down one of her plaits, smiling shyly. "Just Kaija will do – or Auntie Kaija. That's what Emil and the rest call me." Well, she certainly seemed more like an affable aunt than a world-renown psychiatrist.

Matthew couldn't help but smile; he was starting to like her. "Ay, Auntie Kaija. So, all I have to do is keep the patients company?"

"Simple, isn't it?" Kaija smiled, "Just spend a couple of hours a day in your lounge – you've read the letter, haven't you? – talking to the patients, and I'm sure you'll be able to form some sort of friendship with a few of them," Kaija picked up a sheet of paper, "you seem to be a friendly person, and records show that you're gentle and considerate, perfect friend-making material."

"Um…I guess that's good…?" Matthew tugged at his hair.

"It is," Kaija laughed as she shuffled the papers together and stood up. "Let's introduce you to your new friends!"

To be honest, Matthew wasn't really keen on meeting his patients just yet. He'd rather run out of the building than run the risk of having his eyeballs gouged out by some maniac. He calmed his heart, however, and stood up to follow the doctor out of her office. They went back past Emil's desk, and then traversed through a few more hallways, occasionally stopping to greet a few of the staff members, until they finally stopped in front of a brightly painted orange door.

Kaija chuckled at Matthew's stunned expression. "Berwald did it, he's always into furniture and I just love bright colours," she pushed it open, revealing the 'lounge'.

When the door opened, a few heads turned to face the newcomers; several brunettes, a few dark-haired ones, a sleepy-looking man, a smattering of blondes, and one with a mask obscuring half his face. Some sat on the couple of couches, others lounged on the various lazy chairs and a few were sitting at tables. A television flickered in a corner, and Matthew could make out a cartoon of some sort on its blinking screen. Papers lay about the tables, the floors, along with crayons and markers. The doctor was right; they were all around his age, give or take a few years.

"Aunty Kaija!" a small black-haired girl bounded up to the two of them with a smile on her face. Matthew took a step back instinctively. "Is this the new volunteer?"

The doctor smiled down at the girl. "Yes, this is..uh.."

"Matthew," the younger blonde offered, "Matthew Williams."

"I'm Luqoa, and these are all your new _friends_."

She smiled up at him. One look at the grin unnerved Matthew; it made his skin crawl and he just wanted to run away as fast as possible.

"Well then! Here, Mark, this is your name badge," Kaija pinned it onto his hoodie, "and these are little bits of information on the patients in the room," she passed him a sheaf of papers. "Should the need arise, you can use the phone here; it has my office line and Emil's desk number pre-programmed into it," she gestured to a cream phone nailed into the wall by the door, "Have a good day, Mathew." She shut the door and was gone, leaving Matthew alone with a group of mentally unstable adolescents.

"Matthew, Matthew, let's play a game, shall we?" Luqoa tugged as his hand, causing him to wince and pull his hand away. "It's called Cat and Mouse…"

The young blonde bent down to pat her shoulder in what he hoped was an apologetic way. "I don't know how to play that, sorry…"

The smile was instantly replaced with a pout. "But _Matthew_… I thought we were _friends_." Awh, shucks. He never could resist those puppy eyes and sniffling nose, and yes, he _was _supposed to befriend the patients, and she did sound so upset, and –

"Alright, Luqoa, that's enough." A girl, who looked a couple of years older than him, was walking towards them, wavy chestnut locks bouncing with each step. She was decked in the same outfit as everyone else – a pale blue shirt with white pants and white shoes. "You go play with Calanthe or draw or something, okay?" Luqoa pouted for a moment longer, until the older girl hissed 'frying pan' into her ear. Obviously frightened, Luqoa dipped her head and padded off to some other child.

"Thank you, ay," Matthew said cautiously. He wasn't sure if his saviour could be trusted, either.

"Don't mention it! I'm Elizaveta, and sort of the mother hen around here," the brunette said, pushing him towards a couch. "We here in the orange room aren't very dangerous, usually, but sticking with me might be a good idea; I'm very influential."

Matthew eyed the girl, wondering what she meant by 'influential'. "Sure, Elizaveta."

The girl smiled back at him. Matthew sucked up his courage and sighed softly. He couldn't give up on the very first day! He needed these hundred hours of community service to graduate high school, and this was his last chance before the exam season started. It was true that his previous employers had forgotten about him; Matthew seemed to be forever shrouded in an invisibility cloak, and the hours (nearly two hundred of them) he had chalked up prior to this assignment were invalid. Since he was the top scorer in his level, his form teacher had taken it in her hands to sign him up for volunteer work at the mental institution (and set out a schedule for him, no less); there was a higher chance that his service would be recorded properly this time.

During the next four and a half hours, Elizaveta sat next to him and told Matthew about the other patients of the orange room – about Doctor Berwald and his fiancé, Kaija; their nephews and niece, Emil, Lukas and Liselotte. About the other wing with the violent patients and padded cells; about the underground rooms where they had to accommodate more 'special' patients; about the research laboratories and the weekly sessions with the doctors and therapists and medicine and treatment, and the visitors, how she loved the visiting hours.

When she wasn't talking to him, Matthew was being asked to look at drawings of gardens and swings and swimming pools by the various child-like teenagers in the room, or being asked to tell stories of the world outside of the black gates.

When his time was up, Matthew said his goodbyes and left the room.

"Feeling alright, Mufasa?" Doctor Kaija queried, accosting him, and startling him too, near the main hallway.

Matthew nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I'm coming back tomorrow at the same time…"

"Okay!" Kaija watched as he signed out at the front desk. "If you have any problems, feel free to talk to me about it."

"Sure thing," Matthew replied as he headed out of through the doors.

During the bus trip home, the young blonde kept thinking about the patients in the orange room. From the window, he could make out the central park and the playground amidst the heads of the townspeople, milling about and enjoying their holidays (which Matthew had sacrificed for his volunteer work). Seeing the playground swamped with small children, and the friends, couples, families in the park, Giselle, a girl a year younger than him.

"I've never been outside," Giselle said, colouring in her yellow sun. "The first thing I remember is the white, white walls of this place. I don't know what is outside of the brick walls; not my parents' face," she sat back on her heels, back pressing into Matthew's calves. "Not my mother's face, no."

Her expression was totally nonchalant, her composure calm, her voice low and steady, but Matthew felt it was the saddest thing he had heard.

"You'll get better," he found himself saying to the girl, "and then we'll go skating at the central park. The one next to the playground." Giselle stared open-mouthed up at him. She didn't ask what the central park was, or what the playground was like. She just nodded her head.

Matthew returned to an empty house; his mother still had to work, and made a beeline to the kitchen for aspirins. Washing them down with a glass of orange juice, he threw himself down on the bed, figuring sleep would be the best way to lessen his headache and let him recharge emotionally and physically.

* * *

**A/N: **derp. sigh. it's so awkward. i hope i get better at it ~

If you have wishes to see any character in the orange room, or as nurse/doctor/volunteer (i'll try my best to fit them in(:), feel free to say(: Any one is fine, even OCs / yourself XD (but do give a short characterization so i know how to portray him/her/you) .

Except for : Arthur , Alfred, Matthew, the Five Nordics, Romano, Feliciano and Antonio. And France. And Sealand, Scotland and Wales and Ireland. And Ukraine, Roddy and Ludwig and Liecht. Those are kinda confirmed already, sorry/bows


End file.
